by Cour M.
“Oh, good, because I have a story to tell him.”
Through the time vortex, Eleven traveled. He had just finished dropping off a letter at a special place. As he was mid-flight, he went below, opened his wardrobe and put on a new coat and a different bow tie. Once he checked himself, he went to the consul unit and landed.
He looked at his camera and saw that he had parked precisely where he had when he first visited Clara at her charges’ home.[10] He stood there and wondered what was the best course of action. Should he go and knock or should he wait?
He suddenly felt very nervous, for reasons he did not understand.
“Wow,” he smirked, “this is a new feeling.”
Then he slapped himself.
“Why am I so nervous?”
Yet once he acknowledged the feeling, he realized that Martha was right. He still could feel. He still could feel very much. Then he noticed movement on the screen, and he saw that Clara was emerging from out of the house and heading straight for the TARDIS.
Eager to appear nonchalant, he pulled a book from out of a drawer, rushed to the steps, made sure the book was right side up, and then he pretended to read.
The TARDIS door opened, Clara entered, and he didn’t need to look up at her to feel the brightness of her expression.
“So,” she began, “he comes back, does he?”
Before he even formed his reply, he knew the answer she was going to give him even before she said it.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he magnified.
“What question?”
“You didn’t really seem like a nanny.”
“I was going to travel.”
Eleven looked up at her.
Yes, that was what he had very much wanted to hear!
Epilogue Three
Ten & The Ponds
Sitting there, back in the early 1930s, Amy and Rory looked at their flat in quiet acceptance, but no resignation.
“The whole time,” Rory sighed as Amy brought him a mug of tea, “we were still here, the entire time. All those years that we had worked, or thought we had worked, and it was all a lie.”
“Yes, but how could it have been, though?” Amy argued, “I mean, of course we were still here, but you heard the Doctor. We were here, but we were also there. How is that? How could we have been split between two infinities?”
“I’d say timey wimey stuff, but I bet you’re sick of that phrase.”
“Too right, but you know…” Amy rolled her head and looked at him fondly. “Rory, read my mind.”
Rory looked on her, but he did not need to in order to see her thoughts.
“You’re not going to take this lying down, are you?”
“Of course not,” she smiled, “Rory, we were almost out of this all. So let’s not let go of that hope. Let’s believe that we can.” She raised out her hand.
“I love you.”
“You know I do too,” he took her hand.
“Of course you do. Because you’re the best. So how about we find a way to get out of here, huh? How about we never give up?”
“We find him,” Rory agreed, kissing her hand.
“Yes, we live, but we still try and find him.”
Sitting on their sofa, they looked ahead at their window and out at the New York view as Amy thought about the letter she had written for the Doctor, that she hoped she would never have to send.
But Rory and Amy had each other still, and that was good enough odds against anything.
A week had gone by since Ten had dropped off Ace and all the soldiers had been returned to their proper place in history. Yet the loss of the Ponds was tearing at him. He had driven the Dream Lord away, but he could not regard this as anything less than a defeat.
He failed to save Amy and Rory, even though he promised. Between them, Martha and Astrid, there was a sense of hopelessness, as he had let them all down, and he felt broken in two pieces as he could not fathom how to save them at all. Feeling lost, he went to the one place that he often retreated to in the past when he was filled with consternation.
Landing his TARDIS, he emerged from it and was parked on the flattest surface of the Blue Mosque, in Istanbul, Turkey. He picked his customary spot there as he sat down and looked around at the city and tourists. So far below, and looking down at them, they were what reminded him of how he had to keep buggering on, no matter how often he did not succeed.
He and Rose travelled there once, a long time ago.
He looked out on the horizon up ahead, and he wondered what he ought to do next. Everything looked bleak and while he was always the sort to wander anywhere, everywhere, he now began to feel the aimlessness of it. As he looked around, his eyes looking over everything, they rested on a sheet of paper that was attached to the top of the Mosque, near where he was.
On it was written: Doctor.
Seized by the vain hope that it was the Ponds somehow contacting him, he grabbed it and opened it.
Dear Me,
I know that you shall come up here soon. Because we all love to come up here, don’t we? Especially when we are broken, and I know if I bring it here at this time, you will soon arrive, for you always need this place for solace.
I write to you, despite the horrors it shall do to our timeline, but it cannot be helped. I know that you wish to be alone now, and I tell you this, Doctor, we are not good alone. In fact, I suppose our companions always save us as much as we save them in that sort of way. I write to you now, with all risk, to speak of this companion. In the year 2013, Martha will deliver a child, and while you may see her again in the past, this is the time for you to be there for her. You know how people are when they have a child, for we were that way. You know that she is scared. You can run, and keep running, because that is what we do when we do not wish to look at something, but you must… you must look. You must go and see her, because I know that you need to recover from this, and she needs to know that we will always be there. Don’t be afraid, Doctor. Never be so, and remember what our name is.
I hope we never meet or speak to each other again, for our own sakes, but who knows?
Eleven
It had been eight months after Martha had left Eleven.
Ten closed the letter and crumbled it up, but not out of fear or resentment. No, it was merely that Eleven had risked their timelines in speaking to him in such a way and it was dangerous.
But Martha was pregnant and she was going to deliver a baby. Without taking a moment to think on it, he jumped up and rushed back into his TARDIS, taking off.
In a bed in the maternity ward of a hospital in London, Martha was laying there, exhausted and content as she saw her husband, Mickey, walking back and forth as he held their baby.
“Look at her,” Mickey beamed, “She is just beautiful.”
“She has your eyes,” Martha sighed, admiring the sight of them together, and father holding daughter.
“Luckily she looks like you mostly.”
“I know that would make someone quite happy,” she replied.
“Yes, and I know that would be your mother.”
Martha only smiled, figuring that it wouldn’t be the best thing to tell him that it was really from the Doctor.
“So, what do you think?” Mickey asked, “how about we give her a little brother soon?”
“Ah, so that’s where your mind is jumping to?”
“You bet.”
“Well, let a girl get a little rest first.”
“How long is a little?”
Martha looked at him charmingly.
“Take a guess.”
They were interrupted when Mickey’s phone rang. He handed their daughter over to Martha and Mickey saw that it was Jack Harkness on the phone to arrange a time to get his vortex manipulator back—as well as other news. To give Martha some rest and alone time with their baby, Mickey assured her he would return in a few minutes as he sp
oke to Jack in the lobby.
Martha cradled the baby, alone for a time and then she heard footsteps.
“Oh, that was fast, Mickey.”
She looked up and was quite surprised to see Ten standing there with some flowers in his hand.
“Doctor,” she gasped.
“Hello Martha,” he smiled, insecure.
She looked at the flowers.
“Are those for me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” she smiled happily, “how did you know that I…” She closed her eyes in realization, “Your future self.”
“Yes, he left me a letter.”
Martha clicked her teeth three times, teasingly.
“You bad boy, you.”
Ten smiled at her playful demeanor.
“Martha, you look beautiful.”
“Really?” She smiled, and then she looked down at her baby. “Look, the Doctor came to welcome you.”
Martha looked at the Doctor again and gestured to her baby. “What do you think?”
“Beautiful.”
“I’ll swap you,” Martha said, offering him the baby for the flowers. Ten happily laid the flowers on her lap, took the baby, cradling it in his arms while Martha smelled the flowers.
“Thank you,” she said, “they are lovely. And Mickey is here too. He’ll love to see you.”
“Will he? That’s… amusing.”
“Oh shut up, you,” she chuckled.
“So, you met my future self?”
“Yes, I did. And don’t you dare ask me about what happened, because as much as I hate to say the word for fear of sounding unoriginal but… spoilers.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Yes you would.”
“Yes, I would. So what did you name this little one?”
Martha breathed in evenly.
“Doctor.”
Ten looked at her with wonder and it made her laugh.
“Of course we didn’t, you prat. She’s a girl.”
“Well, girls can be named Doctor.”
“Maybe on Gallifrey, but this is London.”
“She’s so small.”
“Yes, she is. You look well like that.”
“Do I?” Ten smiled, looking at himself in the mirror on the wall as he held the baby.
“Yes, you do. You clearly look comfortable with a baby in your hands.”
“Do I?” He said in baby tones to the infant, “do I, do I, do I? So what is her name then?” Ten asked giddily, holding her fondly.
“Susan.”
Ten looked on her in amazement.
“Sorry?”
“Susan.”
Ten looked down at Susan in surprise.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Doctor, go on, spit it out. What is it?”
“Nothing, it’s just, that was my granddaughter’s name.”
“Oh yeah,” Martha recalled the TARDIS showing her briefly. “You never told me that you had a granddaughter,” Martha leaned forward.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does. Clearly it does to you. As it should. Doctor, the man who talks so much and yet says so little. There’s no need to say little anymore. Truly, what have you got to lose? We’ve been through much hell and back, so what is there to be afraid of when it comes to words?”
“Martha, Martha… there is always so much to be afraid of when it comes to words.”
“Well, whatever words you used, I’ve heard all of them. So speak.”
“My granddaughter, Susan. She actually was my first companion in the TARDIS.”
“Really?” Martha smiled, not mentioning the fact that the TARDIS showed her that as well.
“Yes, she was.”
“What happened? You didn’t lose her, did you?!”
“No, but rather, I let her go. She was growing up, and I couldn’t hold her down forever. And sometimes the only way to show someone that you love them is to let them go their own way.”
“Was it hard for you? To say goodbye.”
“Was it hard for you to say goodbye to me?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Then you know precisely how I feel.”
Martha looked deeply into his eyes.
“Doctor, you look heavy. What is it, really?”
“Time is strange when you are a Timelord. For you, I believe that it has been over three years since you’ve seen me. However, for me, it’s been only a couple months since we defeated the Master.”
“What?”
“Yes.”
“Then you haven’t met…”
“Who?”
“No one,” Martha quickly covered up, not wishing to tell him that he would soon meet Donna. “No one. Then what is it?”
“You’ve met my future self.”
“Oh, is that what is bothering you? That one day, you will…”
“While it frightens me, you know me, Martha. I won’t want to go, but I know that I must eventually, as we all ought to.”
“Some people live more in twenty years than those who live for a hundred. It’s not the time, it’s the person.”
“I said that to Richard Lazarus, didn’t I?” Ten smirked.
“Yes, and it was a darn good quote.”
“Oh why thank you.”
“You are very welcome.”
“But my death is not what is bothering me now.”
“Then what is it?”
“You met my future self, so then you may know the people that he traveled with.”
“Yes.”
“Well, Martha, I met two of them.”
“What?” Martha blurted out. “Which ones?”
“I met the Ponds.”
“But they are trapped.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Doctor, tell me everything.”
Once the Doctor gave a quick one minute explanation of what had occurred, Martha was alert.
“Doctor, can you hand me my bag that’s over there on the chair?”
“Why?” He asked, uneasy.
“Because I have to tell you. The future you, of course. He has to know what happened to them.”
“Martha, no!”
“What do you mean no?”
“Martha, you can’t tell him this.”
“First, you can’t order me around. And second, why not?”
“Because they are still trapped, and I can’t get them out. I will keep trying, because it doesn’t affect me, but it would possibly destroy him. Wherever my future self is now, he might be in the middle of something where if you were to tell him, it would interrupt his decisions, actions, or relationship with whoever he is traveling with.”
“Oh, yes, he has a new companion.”
“Precisely, and in his ambition to get them back, he might accidentally do something that can unravel time even more than we possibly have done. Martha, I have made so many scar tissues in the universe. Even I shouldn’t do certain things.”
“You haven’t seen you. Doctor, you feel such guilt over what happens to them. And the guilt is killing you.”
“Is it anything compared to the guilt I feel now that I can’t save them?”
Martha observed his demeanor and saw how broken he appeared.
“After the Time War ended, there was Rose, then me, Astrid, some others, and now you even lost the Ponds. I’m sorry, but wait, if you know about the Ponds, then won’t that damage your actions in the future?”
“No, I have methods for forgetting.”
“And you will use them?”
“I have no choice, really.”
Martha leaned forward and opened her arms for an embrace. Seeing what she implied, as well as feeling so utterly spent, he sat down on her bed and collapsed into her. Martha took Susan back from him, cradled her in one arm, then held the Doctor in the other.
“How heavy do you feel?” Martha asked, empathetic.
“I f
eel as if… I don’t know where to go.”
“Don’t be afraid. Remember, I’ve seen you scared before.”
“Yes, you did. And at this time, I feel as if… I don’t know where to go.”
“The Timelord who ran away, and it was only a matter of time before you would begin to feel lost. But you are not lost, Doctor.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you are not,” Martha countered, her voice turning storybook-like in its softness, “You are the Doctor. And think of all that the Doctor has done. He walked away from the last great Time War. He marked the passing of the Timelords. He travelled to the birth of the universe, then to the end of time. He saw the heart of the common man when he changed himself to human. He met Shakespeare and made a loving enemy in Queen Elizabeth herself. He has had people time after time come and go, but he remained, a constant in the stars. He has the last TARDIS in the universe and she answers to none but him. He lived through the reign and passing of the Master, time and time again. And he lives. He always lives. And he always will go where he is needed. And he is needed everywhere. Because he is the Doctor.”
Ten, emotional, rested his body next to hers as she continued to speak. Eventually, the coaxing of her voice made him so at ease that he fell asleep on the bed, next to her.
Mickey entered the room once more, and was met with the sight of Ten asleep on top of Martha, like a large baby while she still held Susan in her arms. Martha covered her mouth with her finger, indicating for Mickey to whisper.
“No way,” Mickey voiced quietly.
“Oh yeah way.”
“Unbelievable. What is up with him never being able to keep his hands off a woman that I kiss?”
Martha indicated for him to take Susan, which he did.
“Don’t worry,” she said, folding her arms protectively around Ten as he lay in the bed. “I still love you.”
“That’s what they all say,” Mickey joked, taking Susan. “But Martha, when I last saw him, he was old.”
“And he was younger with me. No, he comes from the distant past.” Martha covered her mouth and bit her cheek when she realized something.